Shattered
by sassiest-angel-in-the-garrison
Summary: Dean is unable to feel forgiven by Cas, and therefore, goes to unbelievable lengths to gain this from him, even if it means searching in the haunted town of Silent Hill. There is some Destiel Dean/Cas in love in this fic.
1. Chapter 1

Forgiveness is a thing anyone would beg for if their inner demons have tortured them enough. It makes life a struggle when it's ambiguous as to whether or not it will be received.

For Dean Winchester, he would kill for it.

He loved Castiel, his angelic and gentle lover, and to this day, he dwelled on the end of their relationship. He had never felt a pain so sharp, and an absence so powerful. Needless to say, Castiel was the center of his world. There was no one he would want by his side more than him, and no one could genuinely make him smile like he could.

Dean was going to get the forgiveness he needed.

He was driving in his 1967 Impala, headed down the street of a cozy neighborhood on a cloudy day. Kids were riding their bikes on the sidewalk, and their parents were on their driveways chatting with smiles upon their faces. Other kids were laughing and giggling as they chased each other in the cul-de-sac, without a care in the world. This is what Dean wished he could have.

He knew he would always be without it.

He pulled up to a two story, blue-roofed house with a white coat of paint everywhere else. After parking in the driveway, he moved out of his car and shut the door, marching to the front of the house like he had a mission. The look on his face was stern, and emotionless. His arms barely swayed as his legs guided him to the door. Once he arrived, he borderline pounded on the door, making it shake more than it should.

When it opened, there was a tall male in the entryway, with brown hair hair down to his neck. He was wearing a plaid, long-sleeved shirt and a pair of blue jeans, He was perplexed by Dean's presence, which he showed by his creased eyebrows, and his neutral expression.

"Dean," he said. "Hey."

"Hey Sammy," said Dean. "Can I come in for a sec?"

Sam moved out of the way, and held the door wide open for Dean to enter. Dean took a step up through the door and after Sam shut the door, he turned to him.

"Where's Jess?" he asked.

"She had to run some errands."

Dean nodded. Sam offered him something to drink, and they made their way across the living room/dining room area to Sam's kitchen, where he grabbed two bottles of beer out of the fridge, and slid one over to Dean. After they each took a sip, Sam's perplexed expression, similar to what he showed earlier, was back on his face.

"I don't mean to sound rude," he asked. "But what's with the sudden visit? You usually call."

Dean set down his beer. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, looking away from Sam. Sam leaned on the counter where he was standing, trying to make eye contact with him by moving down to Dean's eye level. Dean eventually brought his eyes up to Sam's, exhaling as he started to speak.

"I'm gonna try to get some closure with Cas."

Sam's facial expression didn't change. He stood up straight, leaning his weight on the kitchen counter with his hands, looking down at the floor. Now, he looked scared. Dean was now trying to have eye contact with Sam, who wasn't moving at all. Dean resorted to waving his hand in front of Sam's eyes, which still proved to be of no use.

Dean was scared of what Sam had to say.

"Dean," said Sam, softly. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"

"I'm in pain, Sam," said Dean. "I haven't gone a day without thinking about him. I just want things to be okay again."

"This isn't how to do it," said Sam, looking right into Dean's eyes. "You've tried so hard to get him to forgive you, but it's too late for that now. Nothing's gonna change, and you know that. Even though it didn't seem like it, I'm hurting for you. I'm telling you not just as your brother, but as a logical human being: The only way to get through what happened is to just move on."

"Sam, I can't. I need to do this."

Sam chuckled half-heartedly, folding his arms and shaking his head. Dean looked dejected, with his eyebrows drooping into a puppy-eyed formation. This meant a lot to Dean, and the fact that his brother didn't approve of his choice was hard for him.

"Sam, I know you don't approve, and that Cas isn't gonna forgive me, but—"

"I'm done with this conversation. There's no point in having it again. Do what you want. You'll get your own answers."

Dean's visit was cut short by Sam's change in emotion, and started to head out the door. But after he made it down the front-patio a bit, he turned to Sam, looking him dead in the eye.

"Cas mentioned something about going to some town called Silent Hill," he began. "Do you think I'll find him there?"

Sam's chest puffed up and then deflated back to normal. He was looking at Dean with worried eyes, clutching the front door with a fidgety hand. Dean's eyes flickered to Sam's nervous hand, and then back to the anxious look on his face.

"You know the stories about that town, Dean," said Sam. "You aren't going to gain anything from going there. You'll just lose it."

"But what if he's there?"

Sam sighed and shook his head. He slowly shut the door, leaving Dean on the porch, staring at the entryway. Dean looked away from the front of the house, and made his way back to his car. Once he got in the driver's seat, he let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes.

"Or maybe he's at his apartment," said Dean. "Maybe he hasn't really left for Silent Hill yet."

He revved up his Impala, pulled out of Sam's driveway, and headed down the street and out of the neighborhood.

Sam didn't know; This is something Dean had to do.

The apartment complex he was heading to was but a short distance from the cozy neighborhood he just left. It was just a quick hop onto the freeway and about a mile after exiting, and he arrived at the complex. It was a nicer, brightly colored complex that could make someone feel at home just by looking at it. Dean even caught himself smiling a bit, remembering the good times he had in this apartment.

He wished he could have those again.

He found a parking spot close to the section where Cas lived, and pulled into it. After getting out of his car, he headed up the first flight of stairs he saw, and went to the right. He knocked lightly on the door a few times, waiting for an answer.

He heard some footsteps coming up the stairs from behind him, and when he turned to find the source, he saw a blond lady in her mid-forties carrying a basket of laundry. She looked up at Dean with a surprised expression, looking between him and the door he was knocking on. Dean smiled at her, hoping to ease the worry she was showing.

"Do you know the guy that lives here?" he asked.

"Y-Yes," she said, timidly. "He hasn't been back here in quite some time. I certainly hope he's not d—"

"Oh come on, miss," said Dean. "That's jumpin' the gun, a bit. Has he said anything to you about going to a town called Silent Hill?"

Her surprised expression turned into a face filled with terror. She started shaking her head vigorously, and quickly made her way to her apartment across the way.

"Wait!" said Dean.

"Don't talk about that town," she said, stopping in front of her door to look at Dean. "You can't. You should know what they say about it. Going there is dying a slow and torturous death. No. Castiel wouldn't—"

She snapped back around to her door, fumbled around with her keys and quickly unlocked it before slipping into her room and shutting the door. Dean hung his head in silence as he heard her lock the door, and made his way back to his car. He took his phone out from his pocket and started typing a message to Sam on it.

"Hey, Sam," it began. "I guess Cas hasn't been to his apartment in a while. Maybe he's really gone to Silent Hill. Can I swing by later to ask you something?"

After sending the message, he shoved his phone back in his pocket and made the journey back home.

He pulled into the parking lot of a decent looking apartment complex, and walked out of his car and up the stairs to his room. Once he unlocked the door and opened it, he revealed his home. The carpet was a pale brown, and his kitchen was big enough to fit two people, comfortably. Down the hall straight ahead of him was his bedroom, and to the right of that was his bathroom. The living room to the immediate right consisted of a black, leather couch, a large, flat screen TV, and a coffee table. To the left was his small, makeshift dining room, with a large wooden table and chairs all around it.

It wasn't perfect, but it was home.

He set his keys down on the counter and pulled his phone out of his pocket, and clicked the button on the side. It mentioned nothing about a new message, so he sighed and left it on the counter as well.

He spent a lot of his time in his apartment that evening relaxing and checking his phone every ten minutes to see if Sam replied. His expression grew more worried each time his phone had no response from Sam. As the evening went on, the increments in which he checked his phone became smaller and smaller. Soon enough, he was checking his phone every two minutes. Eventually, the anxiety was too much for him, and he jumped up off the couch, grabbed his keys, and headed out of the door.

On his way to Sam's house, he mulled over everything that could have happened to him. He wanted to assume that Sam was fast asleep in front of the TV. He wanted to assume that he went out with Jessica after she came back from running errands. He wanted to assume that it was anything but the worst-case scenario. But he knew that Sam was quick with his responses, especially when Dean asked him questions about coming over. However, for what reason would it be the worst-case scenario?

He could be dead, but Dean didn't know why this would happen.

He made it to the cozy neighborhood, which seemed to look more ominous as the evening went on. The evening sun against the heavy clouds created a reddish-orange glow that set fire to Dean's anxiety. There was no wind, leaving all the trees alone, and making them completely stationary where they stood. Everything in the neighborhood seemed to be seen through a grey filter, leaving Dean to feel more worried about his choice to come here.

He pulled into the driveway and put his car in park. Just shortly after, though, he noticed the garage door open, and he looked behind him to see who opened it. A blue corvette pulled into the driveway, and the blond driver inside looked at Dean with concern as she pulled her car into the garage. Dean got out of his car and slowly walked into the garage. She came out of her car as well, and looked at Dean, her expression still filled with concern.

"Hey," she said. "Is everything okay?"

"Hey Jess," said Dean. "I just had to ask Sam something. Is he with you?"

"No, I just got back from my errands. You didn't just want to call him?"

"I sent him a message earlier, and he didn't send one back. I was getting worried."

Jess laughed a bit, and closed her car door. She walked around to the back of her vehicle, and smiled at Dean a bit.

"Come in," she said. "He might just be sleeping. Work's been pretty stressful for him."

Dean followed her into the house through the door in the garage, and after she set her car keys and her purse down on the counter, she moved into the living room.

"Sam?" she said, as she made her way over.

Dean walked slowly behind her, looking out to the living room to see that Sam wasn't there. Jess turned around after she checked, and started walking up the stairs.

"Lemme check and see if he's sleeping upstairs," she said, quietly. "Sometimes he sleeps in our game room."

As she made it to the top of the stairs, Dean waited at the bottom. She called Sam's name again as she made a right into an open room by the stairs. A few moments later, she left and went the other way down the hall. Dean started to look impatient, but he stayed down at the bottom of the stairs, not wanting to seem like he was hovering. He was the only one worried about this, anyway.

Dean heard Jess scream from the room she went in; this made him fly up the stairs in no time at all.

He sprinted down the hall and went into the master bedroom, looking frantically around to try and find her. He quickly made his way to the bathroom, where he saw Jess; she had tears streaming down her face, as she held her hands over her mouth. Dean looked in the same direction as her, and his eyes filled with terror.

He saw Sam's corpse, bloody and the words, "he's waiting" were carved into his chest.


	2. Chapter 2

Jess became frozen where she stood, and as her tears stained her cheeks, Dean cautiously approached his brother's corpse. The blood was everywhere on Sam's body. Whoever decided to kill him, they made sure that he was dead for sure. Dean was fighting back his tears, ignoring the painful lump in his throat, as he read those words over and over: "He's waiting". After spinning the gears in his head at uncomfortable speeds, he knew the mystery behind those two, simple words.

He knew where he would find him.

Dean turned quickly to Jess, who was still sobbing and paralyzed, and after looking closely, Dean noticed her legs shaking. The sudden movement of Dean approaching her did nothing; she continued staring at the corpse of her husband in the room. What else could she do? Her other half was just murdered. At this stage in their lives, neither would be prepared to see them go. Dean knew what he needed to do, and Jess falling apart in front of him was only going to hold him back.

But he didn't blame her.

"Jess," he said, softly. "Do you want to find out who did this?"

From where her eyes were focused, they narrowed, and her tears came to a halt. Her head turned to Dean, and the hand over her mouth dropped.

"I want to murder the bastard that did this," she said, with a hoarse voice. "But why does that matter? Why the hell are you so calm about this? He's your brother for God's sake!"

"Believe me, this is unbearable, but I need answers, and I'm sure you want them too. His death is really getting to me, too, I can tell you that."

Jess stared at him for a moment, and then looked back at Sam's body. She wiped away the rest of her tears, sniffled and looked back at Dean.

"How can I help?" she asked.

"We need to go to Silent Hill."

Her eyes didn't widen. However, as Dean looked right into them, he could see how terrified she actually was. Dean felt guilty for even asking her, but he had no other options. Going alone would just make him feel worse.

"Dean," she whispered. "N-No. We can't go there. We aren't gonna come back. Are you really willing to do that, just to find out who did this to Sam? We have police officers and detectives for that."

"This isn't about the law. No one will understand this but us. Please, Jess. I need your help."

She fixed her gaze on Dean, whose expression was rife with anger. Dean could see that she wanted the same thing he wanted. He could see that she needed answers. Sam was the most important aspect of her life, and he knew that she wouldn't be able to simply relax until she knew who would kill someone as gentle as him.

Her sudden change in demeanor was all that Dean needed to see that she was willing to help him.

"I'll come with you," she said. "I have nothing keeping me here."

With that, Dean let Jess gather anything she absolutely needed on their journey. Not needing much, except her white tank-top and her jean shorts, she told him she was ready, and they took their leave from her home.

After driving out of the neighborhood, Dean drove to his apartment, claiming there was something that he needed before they left. He entered his apartment and opened a drawer from the nightstand by his bed. He grabbed a picture of Cas; they had taken a trip to California, and Dean wanted to get a picture of Cas smiling as he enjoyed the ocean water on his feet. He looked at it for a while, smiling at the nostalgia it brought him.

Dean heard footsteps from behind him, but didn't let it phase him.

"Is Cas a part of this, too?" Jess asked from behind him.

"I'm not sure yet," said Dean, turning to face her. "But I have a feeling I'll get the answers I need about him, too."

Jess looked puzzled, tilting her head a bit.

"I thought he broke up with you," she said. "Why would this help you out at all?"

"He always talked about wanting to go to Silent Hill. I…just feel like I might find him."

Jess looked at Dean with fearful eyes, shaking her head quickly, and with small motions.

"B-But Sam told me—" she began.

"Just let me do this, okay? Sam didn't understand either, but I have to do this."

Jess just nodded timidly, and walked out of his room with a lost look in her eyes. Dean looked at the picture of Cas again, admiring the light that radiated from his smile. It was contagious, leaving Dean smiling in the middle of his bedroom. It wasn't long, though, until tears started rolling.

"I'm coming, babe," he said, through the pit in his throat.

When Dean left his room, him and Jess walked out of his apartment and Jess followed. They got in his car and left for their final destination: Silent Hill.

The ride was eerily quiet, which was expected, since their reasons for this journey were brought to them by death. Jess's eyes were fixed on the world outside of her window, and every once in a while, Dean would glance over at her, as if he was making sure that she was still alive. Dean tried as hard as he could to try and find a way to break the silence, but Jess ended up doing it for him.

"Just, why?" she asked, with a soft, hoarse voice. "Why Sam? What did he ever do?"

"I don't know," said Dean, just as soft. "He doesn't deserve this."

"Our life was perfect. Everyone loved him. All the neighbors, all of his coworkers…I just don't understand why this happened."

Dean looked over at her, and her eyes met with his. He could see the confusion in her eyes, and he could tell that her life was over. No matter what they found in Silent Hill, neither of them would have a normal life again.

"I'm sure we'll get some answers when we get there," said Dean.

Jess fell asleep as they continued their trip. Dean concentrated on the road ahead of them, but let his mind wander as the signs told him that Silent Hill was only a few miles away. Would he really find what he was looking for? Would it just be a waste? He wanted all of his questions to be answered, but he was afraid of how his life would change once he learned the truth.

But there was no going back now.

They passed the sign that said, "Welcome to Silent Hill", and Dean stared it down as he passed it by, feeling a disturbing, empty feeling in his stomach. When he looked back at the road, he saw a black blur race across the street, which startled him and caused him to steer hard to the left. Unable to control the car after that, he crashed into the metal fence off the side of the road, making the car stop in its path.

Jess's eyes flew open, and she looked frantically around the area. Dean was in shock, breathing heavily as his eyes widened, and became fixed on the fence in front of him. Jess looked at Dean, and nudged him softly. He didn't budge. Jess tried it again, but with more force.

"Dean," she said, as she nudged him.

His head snapped in her direction, and he took off his seat belt, rushing out of the car. This put him on the grounds of that town; a fog covered, quiet town that left Dean trembling where he stood. Because of the thickness of the fog, this was the only part of the town that Dean could see.

Jess got out of the car and rushed over to Dean.

"What happened?" she asked.

"Something ran across the street," he said. "I swerved out of the way and crashed—"

He tried to continue his sentence, but their attentions were turned to the sound of plants rustling nearby. They kept their focus on the area, and their breaths became heavy with fear. Dean took a few steps forward, trying to quell the panic he was feeling. Jess watched him with horror in her eyes, as if this would be the last time she would see Dean.

From behind the fog, an outline of some figure appeared, but it had no arms. It was moving in a strange fashion; it twitched and its torso would move around as if it was trying to struggle out of a straight jacket. As it emerged from the fog, more of its details were visible. It was a smoky grey color, and its legs were thin. The face had no distinct details except for a mouth that had no lips, leaving the teeth and gums to be completely visible. The torso looked contorted and lumpy, with the outline of arms that were folded across its chest. It would try to press the trapped arms against the thick coating that surrounded it, which explained why it always looked as if it was struggling.

Having his curiosity quelled, Dean started backing away, running through his mind to figure out how to defend himself. He scanned the area for any sort of weapon, leaving himself vulnerable. The monster's midsection opened, sending smog flying toward Dean. He started coughing and hacking vigorously, stumbling as he tried to escape its grasp.

"Dean, be careful!" said Jess, approaching him and dragging him out of the smoke.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," said Dean, shrugging Jess off of him. "Just hurry and find a weapon before it can do that again."

Dean ran passed the creature, and saw a large two-by-four lying on the ground by the fence. He picked it up and took a battle-ready stance as he approached the monster. He swung right at its head, making it stumble. It turned around and faced him, sending out another wave of smog. Dean rolled to his right and jumped back up, successfully avoiding the deadly haze.

He looked around for Jess, who had just picked up a smaller, broken piece of wood. She approached Dean and stood by his side, ready to attack this creature with him.

She jabbed at the torso with the sharp part of her broken piece of wood, impaling it through the skin of the thing in front of them. Though the creature wasn't quick, it was able to take a lot of hits. Jess backed away after the smog monster took her blow, and her eyes widened at the way it acted like her attack was a mere tickle. In fact, it simply became angry with her, and sent out a wave of smog big enough to hit them both.

"Dammit!" said Dean, through his rough coughing.

Jess was coughing in the background, and Dean was going to check on her, but knowing that would only leave them vulnerable to be attacked again, he had to keep trying. He clutched his large piece of wood, and took a large swing at the creature, finally knocking it to the ground. It groaned as it twitched on the ground, still appearing to be struggling against the cage around him. Without any hesitation, Dean lifted his foot and stomped on its head, not crushing it, but its movements were brought to a halt.

Jess's coughing started becoming less vigorous as she moved toward Dean. Dean simply stared at the deceased creature, squinting his eyes at the creature.

"That thing took a beating," he began. "But I ganked it just by stomping it?"

"Fascinating," said Jess, breathlessly. "But we should go. We don't need another thing like that trying to kill us."

Dean and Jess went slowly back to his car, still recovering from the smog, and when he turned the key in the ignition, the car didn't respond. He tried one more time; nothing.

"Son of a bitch," he said under his breath. "Looks like we have to walk."

Jess sighed in protest, but because of their lack of alternate transportation, she was forced to go along with Dean's plan. So they left Dean's car, and started heading into the town.

To their surprise, they managed to avoid any creatures while roaming the streets of Silent Hill. If they saw one, they stayed quiet and found a way to sneak by them, making their journey through the haunted town. They had only a single run-in with another smog monster, but they learned from their other fight and strategically brought it down without any injuries.

They started approaching the end of the street they were on, and at the other end, the figure of a man was walking across it. Dean squinted, trying to focus on the man in the distance. He walked faster to try and catch him before the man disappeared behind the buildings on the other side of the road.

"Hey wait!" said Dean, as his brisk walk turned into a jog.

The man stopped in the middle of the street; he heard Dean's shouting. He was wearing a long, tan trench coat, and his hair looked messy, but perfect in its own way. His blue eyes flashed a puppy dog look at Dean, smiling as he looked at him. It wasn't a "I'm so happy" kind of smile, though. It was a smile that seemed to hide a terrible truth.

"Cas?" said Dean, slowing down.

The man looked away and started walking down the street again. Dean's eyes widened with panic, and without thinking about his next move, he started sprinting.

"Wait!" said Jess, trying to keep up with him.

Dean was in no mood to slow down for her. He was here, and he couldn't stop. He couldn't just watch him walk away again. He wasn't going to let this trip to that desecrated town go to waste. He finally felt that Cas was in his reach, and he wasn't going to slow down.

He was craving answers.


	3. Chapter 3

Every time Dean turned the corner, he felt like Cas moved another thousand feet from him. Cas wasn't even running; it was as if he simply appeared all the way down the street, and he would teleport to another area. Dean's determination was unwavering, though. He ran down the streets, flew across corners, and sprinted down alleyways; he wasn't going to stop until Cas was in his arms. At the end of another alley, Cas finally stopped moving around, and looked at Dean with his deep, sapphire eyes.

"Cas," said Dean, bending over with his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. "Please stop running. Let's just go home, okay? Let's work things out. I just wanna…"

Cas stepped toward him, shaking his head with disappointment. Dean looked up at him, and his eyes reflected the pain this caused. Cas continued to walk, without even saying a word.

"Cas," said Dean, turning around, trying to clutch his hand. "Please don't go."

Cas shied his hand away, continuing out of the alleyway, keeping his silent demeanor about him. He turned the corner, and Dean fell to his knees, hanging his head in despair.

He failed; it was over.

As his hopes of having his beloved back cracked and shattered his heart, so did the town around him. It looked as if the paint on the sides of the buildings around him were peeling and ascending into the sky. As they soared away, the ground below him peeled away, turning into a metal walkway, resembling a fence-like pattern. Through the holes in the fence pattern, he could see that it was the only thing keeping him above a bottomless pit. The pale, grey light around him faded into complete darkness. The only "light" he could see was the orange glow on the side of the buildings that replaced the dull paint.

When Dean finally looked up, his eyes widened and his pupils dilated as he noticed the world change around him. He slowly rose to his feet, examining the area as he moved forward.

"Where the hell…" he said, his thought trailing off as he continued down the walkway.

With each step he took, the metal shook and made rickety sounds that accelerated Dean's heartbeat. He took a deep breath, starting to walk faster as he made his way around this strange new place. It was hard to see anything ahead of him, though, so he kept a steady, cautious pace so he could be on guard.

He had no idea where he was headed.

This world appeared to be a maze of alleyways, and every time Dean turned the corner, he felt there were at least five more paths that he could take. After going down several other pathways, he let out a deep sigh, and hung his head back.

"I just want a way out," said Dean.

When he returned his head to an upright position, he noticed a sign to his left. It was an "Exit" sign, with an arrow pointing to the left. Dean squinted at the sign, moving slowly toward the direction it was indicating. However, as he approached the sign, it became less visible because the darkness around him became intensified. He stopped in his tracks, and started taking a few steps back. It happened just as he predicted; light returned to his vision as he moved away from the sign.

"I need a flashlight or something," he said.

"A flashlight, you say?" said a male, sinister voice.

He turned around quickly when the voice sounded against his ears, but there was no one around. He took some steps forward, looking down the path to his left. No one was there, and he continued his steady maneuver forward.

"Who's there?" Dean asked.

The man snickered. Dean continued looking around for the source.

"I have one of those doo-hickeys that you're talking about," he said. "But you need to come and take it from me. It's…making my eyes feel…"

The snickering became higher pitched. Dean didn't pay much attention to the insanity this man was portraying, and tried to follow the laughing. As he followed the sound, he heard a latch from what sounded like a door closing, and he looked to the direction of this sound. Seeing a door at the end of this path, he jogged to the end, opening the door and entering without trying to confirm if the man even went down that path.

The room he wound up in made Dean want to turn around and leave just as fast as he came in. The only source of light in the room was a dim lantern above a rotting, emaciated corpse, which was lying on a bed with a metal frame. Its hands were folded against its chest, and in those hands was the item Dean was looking for.

He approached the body and noticed something peculiar about it; there were no eyes. The sockets where they should have been were empty, and the skin around the sockets looked scorched.

Trying not to let it terrify him, Dean carefully, as if it would spring to life after touching the flashlight, slid it out of its grasp, letting out a sigh of relief after he had it tightly in his hands.

"Thanks, fugly," he said, starting to walk out of the room.

As he made his way to the door, Dean heard something slide and then thump against the ground, as if something fell off of something else. He turned around to make sure he wasn't becoming as insane as the things he was seeing.

The body was now on the floor; it was face down and its limbs were contorted in uncomfortable-looking positions.

Dean's heart was pounding a mile a minute. He breathed heavily and quickly, trying to convince himself not to go near the corpse. Instead, he backed away slowly, keeping an eye on it. Once his back touched the door, he reached behind him for the doorknob, twisted it, and bolted out of the room before something else could happen.

After closing the door and trying to catch his breath, Dean started walking down the path again toward the exit sign, turning on his flashlight to light the way as the darkness grew stronger. He shined it on the metal walkway below him, making sure he was still walking on solid ground.

"With my luck," he whispered. "The ground will just cave in."

The path was linear from here. There didn't appear to be any turns or alternate alleyways to go down. Dean would shine his light on the walls for anything out of the ordinary, or rather, something that stuck out in this demented world. He was already on edge because of the corpse; he didn't need another one getting the jump on him.

He continued for almost five minutes, and nothing seemed to be different. It was the same, rusty-looking walls with the ominous orange glow on the bottoms. Nothing looked different.

"Maybe this isn't—" he said, turning around.

Once he faced the opposite direction, he was face to face with the same dingy walls that were on either side of him. He backed away, and his eyebrows creased in confusion.

"I uh…" he said with a shaky voice. "Guess I'm not going that way."

He continued on the only path ahead of him. He started to walk faster, since he only expected there to be one way to go. To his surprise, though, he ended up by another alleyway, which he turned down to find a door at the end of the way. Knowing there was nowhere else to go, he opened the door and slipped into the room.

This was a bad idea; two of those corpses, similar to the one he saw in the other room, were hanging off the ceiling in this brightly lit room.

There was door directly on the opposite side of this room. Trying not to disturb the bodies, Dean walked slowly around them, being careful as to not brush them in the slightest. He kept his eyes on them, now walking backwards as he inched closer and closer to the other door. Feeling he was safe, he turned around and turned the knob on the door.

It was stuck; he heard the same thump on the ground behind him, only louder.

Horrified at what he might see, he turned slowly to see where the thump came from. One of the bodies was slumped on the ground, now. The other was gently swaying side to side.

Dean struggled with the doorknob some more, pulling and pushing on the door in his attempt to escape. He rammed his whole body's weight against the door, but nothing was breaking this door down. He stopped to take some breaths before he started shoving his foot against it with relentless force.

There was another thump from behind him.

He turned around and saw the other body face-down on the ground. Dean froze. His shock prevented him from thinking at all. His fear consumed him, and the only thing running through his mind was, I'm not gonna make it.

He was able to shake his fear enough to think of a plan. Without trying to disturb the moving dead even more, he tiptoed to the door he came from, and once he was close enough, he twisted the knob and tried to open the door. It was locked.

The bodies started moving again.

They used their legs to stand themselves up, with their torsos still slumped over. They turned toward Dean, and as they walked toward him, their upper bodies slowly rose to a full-standing position.

Dean let his instincts take over, as he used the back end of the flashlight to strike one of their faces. It bent backwards, but then sprung right back to its regular position, giving no indication of being wounded. Dean struck it again, not knowing what else to do. It bent back again, and the one he wasn't attacking gripped his arm tight. To Dean's disadvantage, it was the arm that was holding his only weapon.

The other corpse approached Dean, raising its hand to attack Dean. However, Dean defended himself my striking the corpse's face with his fist, giving him enough time to throw his head back and smack the other corpse's head with the back of Dean's. This was enough to free him from its grasp, giving him an opening to sprint to the door that would lead him further in the journey through this nightmare.

With his momentum building, he bolted to the door and used his shoulder against it, falling when the force bounced back and sent him to the floor. Even though this caused a lot of pain, he forced himself to get up quickly. He gripped his throbbing shoulder and turned around, watching as the corpses stepped closer to him. He backed up against the door, knowing he couldn't slip by either of them.

He didn't know what to do anymore.

The faintest idea shone through his confusion. He wasn't sure if it would work, but he knew that it was worth a shot. He shone the flashlight into their eyes, and they immediately froze. Their bodies shattered into tiny particles of dust, and rested in a pile where they once stood.

Dean sunk against the door, leaning back against it as he took a rest. He hung his head with fatigue, resting his right arm on his knee. His breath was heavy, and a single tear dripped off of his cheek.

"I can't give up," he said, hoarsely. "I know I can't, but I wish I could."

He shook his head vigorously. He then gave his face a few pants with each hand, and jumped back up on his feet. Wiping his tears away, he turned to the door and looked at it with a hardened stare.

"Man up, Dean," he said. "Feeling sorry for yourself won't do shit in this world."

He shoved his foot against the door with a great deal of force, and it swung open. His expression brightened after he succeeded. He moved through the door, and ended up in a dimly lit room full of the corpses he just saw. All of them were attached to the walls with their arms folded against their chests. From what Dean could see, there were about ten lined along the walls.

The door slammed behind him. The sight ahead of him, though, scared him more than the loud noise behind him.

"Son of a bitch," he said, falling to his knees.

He was too tired to fight all of them. He was too tired to throw his whole body against another locked door. He was too tired to keep searching through this darkened world to look for something that simply couldn't be found. He was too tired to pick himself up and give it another go, and let his determination fuel him up yet again.

Even though his journey had just started, he was simply tired.

The bodies, one by one, broke off of the wall and fell to the ground. Dean watched as each one of them fell down, and with each thump on the ground, the pit in his stomach sunk deeper and deeper.

They started moving toward him, and he lowered his head, accepting what was going to happen.

"Dean," said a woman's voice. "Dean you have to get up."

His head snapped back up. His eyes squinted as he tried to think of whose voice it was. Who could have been talking to him in this hellhole?

"Dean, please," she said again. "You have to get up. Please."

The voice was enough to pump him back up, letting curiosity be the energy running through his veins. Once he stood up, the room became brighter, and the emerging light blew that nightmare to dust, making all the creatures dissipate into the air. As the light filled the world, it quelled Dean's fear, and filled him up with the determination he had when he came to Silent Hill.

He was in a building of some sort. The walls were grey. There was a door in front of him, and two windows on either side of him were the only sources of light in the room. It was the foggy, grey light that Silent Hill provided on the streets, but it was still more than what the nightmare world offered him.

"Dean!" he heard, which was more like a shriek.

It was the same voice he heard in the dark world, and he realized who it was when he was in the real world.

"Jess," he said, charging to the door.

He rammed against the door and burst into the room, where Jessica was sitting in a wooden chair with her hands tied behind the back.

"What happened?" he asked, as he went behind the chair and started untying the knots.

"Well I was looking for you," she began. "And I ran into some guy and…well, I can give the details later, but he's coming back, some we need to get out of here."

Dean finished untying the knot, and right as Jess stood up out of her chair, the door Dean came through swung open, and a tall man with black hair, and a white suit with a black rose in his breast pocket stood in front of them. He gripped his pistol with a white-gloved hand, and he grinned, staring them down with his iceberg colored eyes.

"Sit back down, my love," he said.


	4. Chapter 4

Dean and Jess remained where they were, looking cautiously at the man with the gun. He began to approach them with a sinister grin upon his face, putting Dean's nerves on edge. He glanced over to Jess, who had a slight trembling throughout her body, which was hard for someone to notice unless they were in close proximity. Dean concluded that she was just nervous because they were being held at gunpoint, but he'd been gone for a while; he didn't know what could have happened in that time between the two of them.

The man didn't move from the doorway. He continued to hold his gun up, pointed at Dean, while fixating his gaze on Jess.

"I asked you to sit, sweetie," he said again, soothingly.

Jess shook her head nervously. His grin disappeared, and it turned upside down into an angered expression. He widened his eyes, staring more intensely at Jess.

"Sit," he said. "Or I'll make you."

"Who the hell are you?" asked Dean.

"Shut up," said the man, turning to Dean. "I'm not talking to you."

"Who are you?" Jess repeated.

The man turned back to Jess, and his expression became filled with pain. He lowered his gun, and held his hand over the left side of his chest; he gripped it as if this would keep his heart from shattering.

"My love," he said, softly. "Don't you remember me? It's me, Clint. We were…"

The hand on his chest slipped off and hung to the side, and he smirked a bit, keeping his angered eyes upon his expression.

"I see," he continued. "This is your way of dumping me. Hanging around some other guy, and pretending I don't exist…"

"I really don't know who you are," said Jess. "I don't know who you think I am, but I'm not her."

"Lies!" he screamed, his voice ricocheting off the walls.

Jess flinched a bit, covering her ears after his shrill scream filled the room. He was now breathing deeply, and instead of a gaze filled with just anger, there seemed to be a hint of insanity in it.

"I'm not an idiot," Clint said. "I know what you're doing. I'll just have you know that I won't stop until you're with me again."

"Hey now," said Dean, feeling the need to help out. "You really do have the wrong girl. If you want, you can tag along with us, and maybe we could find—"

"I never asked for your input, douche bag!" said Clint, with a few drops of saliva spraying passed his lips. "You're in this with her, too. Pretending she's not really my beloved Julia…"

"If you would just listen for a god damn minute," said Dean. "She is not this person you're talking about. I'm sorry but if you don't want to join us, and you're really bent on finding her, then we need to go our separate ways. Come on, Jess."

Dean grabbed Jess's hand, and began to lead her out of the room. Jess looked dazed; Clint apparently scared the daylights out of her. Dean knew he couldn't get her out of there without a little bit of force. Clint stood in the room, his eyes widened with confusion, but as they passed him on the way through the door, his mouth twisted into what looked like a snarl, and he quickly turned around, firing a bullet right at Dean's forearm.

"Don't touch her!" he said. "Don't take her away from me!"

Dean grimaced and the force of the bullet made him release Jess's hand. He watched as his jacket sleeve became stained with blood, and he started sprinting once he heard Clint firing more bullets at them. Jess managed to keep up with him as they flew through the building. They turned left at the next room and entered a stairwell, which they went down quickly and eventually made it to the ground floor. Neither of them was paying attention to whether or not Clint was on their tail.

They made it out of the building and onto the street, trying to catch their breath as they looked up at the building they just left.

"Do you think he was able to keep up?" asked Jess.

"I don't know," said Dean, pressing on his wound more. "Hopefully he went even crazier and jumped out of the building."

"Well we need to make sure he won't find us. You're injured, and I don't think you need another one"

They jogged down the street some more and saw a building with a sign outside, saying "Alchemilla Hospital".

"Let's head in," she said. "There are probably some supplies here to help with that bullet wound."

Dean was against the idea of using supplies from some abandoned hospital, but he figured it would be better than nothing.

They entered the hospital, and upon walking in, they were welcomed with complete darkness.

"Here," said Dean, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his flashlight. "This should help."

He turned it on, illuminating the lobby area where they were standing. The black and white checkered floor had some spots that were covered in dried blood, and it looked as if someone came through the hospital and intentionally made a mess of things. There were stretchers here, and first aid kits there, and nothing seemed to be organized like it should.

Jess made her way to an unopened first-aid kit, and picked it up off of the ground. "Come on," she said. "Let's get that thing out of you."

"There's no bullet," said Dean. "It just grazed me."

"Either way," she said. "We still need to treat that wound."

She and Dean headed to the waiting area, where she started to treat Dean. After Dean rolled up his sleeve, Jess pulled out some antibacterial wipes, and gently ran it over Dean's wound. Dean bit his lips as the wound started to sting. After Jess cleaned it, she wrapped it up in an ace bandage, and patted it softly.

"There," she said. "That should help."

"Thanks," he said.

The sound of something falling to the ground echoed across the halls. Dean and Jess jumped a bit, startled by the noise. They stared in the direction of the source, slowly rising to their feet.

With no leads about the area they were in, naturally, they had to see what it was.

Dean held the lit flashlight as they made their way through the hospital, making sure they didn't trip over any of the objects scattered on the floor. They had to kick some to the side because of how much was on the floor.

They heard another loud noise as they started moving down the hallway, and the noise boomed from a room to their right. They looked at the door, and then at each other. After each of them took a deep breath, they opened the door and went in.

Once they entered, they saw someone hovering over a corpse on the floor. The figure wore a nurse's cap, and a white colored top. It was lifting its arm up high, and then bringing it back down in strong motions. Dean could only assume that it was stabbing something to death. As if it knew they were watching, it turned around and looked at Dean and Jess.

As it began to stand, more of its features became visible. It was standing tall, and it moved with no precision, as if it had minimal control of what it could do. The white top extended to a bit of a miniskirt, and they wore black high-heels. The developed breasts beneath the upper part of the dress gave Dean the impression that this thing was a woman. The face was fully wrapped in bandages, and one spot in particular on the left side of her face was stained with dark, red blood. The knife in her right hand was coated in the blood of her victim.

The nurse started walking toward Dean and Jess, walking with an insane gait. Dean caught a glimpse of a pistol in the corpse's hand, and decided that snagging it would be their best bet. As the nurse got closer, Dean struck her face with the end of his flashlight and passed it off to Jess before he dashed to the pistol. As the nurse stumbled, she started slashing wildly in her attempt to stop Dean. He managed to duck under the blows, and he grabbed the pistol from the dead nurse on the floor.

Once he looked up, he noticed the nurse approaching Jess quickly, and he immediately fired at the nurse's back. She fell forward a bit, but caught herself. She snapped around, facing Dean, and then charged quickly at him. He fired at her again right on the left side of her chest, and finally, he shot her head, bringing her to the floor.

Dean looked at Jess, who was breathing just as heavily as Dean was.

"Just when you think you've seen it all," she said.

Dean rose to his feet and started walking toward Jess. As he moved over the nurse he just finished with, something came as a surprise to him.

The nurse gripped his leg, keeping him where he stood.

Dean's initial panic hurt his ability to aim precisely, so when he fired to try and force her to release him, he wasn't able to hit her. Jess raced over as quickly as she could, and she started kicking the nurse until finally, she let go of Dean's leg.

Angered by Jess's assault, the nurse slashed at her ankles with her knife, but Jess jumped out of the way before the knife could make contact. Dean struggled to catch his breath, and then once he found the concentration, he fired again at the nurse's head, and she became still again. To make himself feel better, he fired one more time.

Jess hurried over to him and looked at the bodies from where they stood.

"Let's just get out of here before they can get up again," she said.

Agreeing with her logic, Dean left with Jess back into the hallway. They felt the need to just leave, but just as they started walking back to the entrance, nurses started filing out of the room for the reception desk.

"Nevermind," said Dean.

They turned around and sprinted down the hallway. They opened the door at the end to the stairwell, and swiftly made their way to the second floor. Once they left the stairwell, they slammed the door shut, hoping that they weren't going to be chased anymore.

The second floor hallway was much neater, and the floor was clear of any obstacles. They walked forward slowly, looking around for anything threatening. Since they couldn't leave, they tried to make the most out of being in the area. After all, what they were looking for could have been here.

The light from Dean's flashlight shone on a familiar figure. It was a trench-coated man, who was storming through the halls, looking as if he was on a mission.

"Cas!" said Dean, starting to race after him.

"Hey!" said Jess, grabbing his hand and pulling him back. "You are not running off and leaving me again. It's too dangerous. If you want to go after him, then let me go with you."

"But Jess, I have to find him before he gets away. You don't understand how—"

"I don't understand? Are you serious? We're both here because we lost our loved ones, Dean. Both of our reasons are just as important, and just as upsetting. I wanna find Sam, but I at least would like to be smart about it."

Dean thought about it a while, and gave her a small nod.

"Okay," he said, softly. "Together, then."

They started jogging in the direction where Cas headed. After turning down the hall, they saw him going down another at the end, and they followed him. Once they made it across this area, they saw him at the end of the next hall entering a room. They ran down to that side of the hall and without any hesitation, went into the room.

The door shut behind them and when they were in the room, they were caught off guard by what they saw. Cas was sitting in a chair beside the hospital bed, with a man on it who had bruises and scratches on his face. He was looking carefully at this man, studying the injuries. His hair was longer than the average man's hair, and Jess gasped upon seeing him.

"S-Sam?" she asked, starting to walk toward him.

Cas held his hand up in her direction, and she stopped in her tracks, looking at Cas with a confused expression.

"He needs rest," said Cas. "Leave him."

"How did he get here?" asked Dean.

"Well," Cas began. "I'd love to explain it to you, but I feel like that's something you need to figure out on your own. I mean, after all, you and Jess are here too, so maybe—"

He stopped short, looking at the floor in front of him. He chuckled lightly.

"Oh, that's not what you meant. You were asking how he ended up here."

He chuckled a bit more, standing from his chair, and straightening his coat.

"A crazed man with a gun started firing, and Sam happened to be in proximity, so he shot him. I think the man mentioned something about looking for Julia, and that Sam was her secret lover…?

Jess's eyes widened.

"I know who that is," she said. "We saw him too. He thinks I'm Julia."

Cas nodded a bit.

"Well," he said. "Can't really help you there. That's outside of my knowledge."

Throughout this whole conversation, Cas never made eve contact with Dean. Dean felt as if he was pretending that he wasn't even the room.

Cas started walking out of the room, but Dean moved in front of him, stopping him from proceeding.

"I'm not letting you get away," said Dean. "Please, Cas. If you won't just come home and figure things out with me, tell me why."

Through Dean's emerald green eyes, there was an overwhelming amount of pain. One didn't have to know what was going on in his mind to see how hurt he was; one look at his eyes was enough to see that he was destroyed.

Cas looked up at him, with a glare that almost looked as if he was offended.

"You really don't know what's happening here," he began, in almost a whisper. "Do you?"

He continued to walk out of the room, and once the door closed again, the nightmare started coming back.

"No," said Dean, running to the door.

He tried to open it, but it wouldn't move. As he desperately tried to get through it, the room looked as if it was starting to rust, as the walls started turning a reddish, dirty brown. The checkered paint on the floor peeled away and floated into the air, revealing the same metal floor from before.

"What the hell happening?" asked Jess, with a shaking voice.

After the walls became worn out, the floor peeled away and the door turned to a heavy block of metal, Dean turned and looked at Jess.

"Basically," he said. "We're in a living nightmare."


	5. Chapter 5

Jess looked as if the words Dean said simply couldn't be processed. She stared at Dean, mouth wide open in disbelief.

"You're being serious," she stated.

"Do I look like I'm lying?" said Dean, with a stern expression.

Jess's mouth closed and she took a deep breath. Outwardly, she showed just as much fear as Dean felt when he first entered this world. They were in this nightmare together this time, which calmed Dean's nerves a bit, but not enough. He wasn't sure what this bad dream would hold for him, next.

"How do we get out?" asked Jess, trying to calm herself.

"Not sure, " said Dean, turning back and looking at the door. "But I know that sitting on our asses won't do us much good."

He opened the door in front of him, leading back to the hallway. The walls and the floors had that same, peeling paint and rusted look, just like the world before. The halls were darkened and eerie, and it made the hospital more unsettling than it was.

"Oh my god," said Jess, as they moved into the hall. "This really is a nightmare."

"And it doesn't get any better," said Dean. "Let's just keep moving."

They headed left down the hallway, moving slowly as they looked around the area with caution. Dean glanced behind him to see if anything might be following them, and looked forward again. After going down the hallway a bit more, he checked behind them again, and his eyes widened at what he saw.

"What?" said Jess, anxiety in her expression.

At the other end of the hall was a woman with black hair, and tan skin. She was wearing a white sundress that extended down slightly below her knees, and white sandals. She started walking toward them, her eyes fixated on Dean.

"Hello Dean," she said. "Funny seeing you in a place like this."

"Who is that?" asked Jess, in a low whisper.

Dean paid no attention to Jess. He was stunned by the woman in white, as she approached him with an elegant glide in her step.

"What's wrong?" she asked, brushing her hand against Dean's. "Didn't you miss me?"

Dean snapped his hand away from her, and her pleasant look went sour. Her smile faded into a more neutral emotion. Her brows crinkled, and she tilted her head as she gazed into Dean's eyes.

"Why are you doing this?"

Dean couldn't say anything. He moved his lips, and he tried forcing a sound out from his tightened throat; nothing came out. As his silence dragged on, the woman's offended look in her eyes intensified.

"This is because of that Castiel person, isn't it?" she asked, raising her voice. "You told me that our night together wouldn't just be a one night stand. You told me that you didn't think he was right for you. You lied to me."

"Run," Dean said, eventually.

Dean gripped Jess's arm and they bolted down the hallway. Lisa was, literally, floating behind them, at almost the same speed as they were running. They turned down the hallway and sprinted as fast as their bodies would let them, and when Dean glanced back to check on their attacker, he noticed she was gaining speed. Panicked, and scrambling to figure out what to do, he went in the door he was closest to, and slammed it shut. He and Jess pushed their weight against the door as the woman attempted to beat it down.

After a while, the banging stopped, and the two of them cautiously removed their weight from the door.

"Is she gone?" asked Jess.

Dean opened the door slowly, peeking around both to the left and right, even at the ceiling, just for safekeeping.

"Yeah," said Dean, moving out into the hallway.

"Who was that?" Jess asked, again.

Dean took a deep breath, and turned to Jess. The creasing in his brow, and the tightening of his lips suggested that this wasn't a good topic for him.

"Don't wanna talk about it," he said. "Let's see if we can find a way out of here."

They moved down the hallway some more, and as they opened the door to the stairwell, a couple nurses, like the ones they had seen before, were making their way up the stairs. With his newly found weapon, Dean fired at them, killing them as he moved down to the lower level of the hospital.

After exiting the stairwell, they entered another hallway that seemed eerily quiet, considering the haunted world that they were in. They walked slower, and with more caution.

"This is creepy," said Dean.

"What isn't creepy, here?" asked Jess. "God dammit, Dean how did you get out before?"

"I don't know, Jess. It just happened."

"Well figure it out, because I'm freakin' out over here and I wanna leave so we can find Sam because he needs us and—"

Dean gripped her shoulders tightly, halting her mindless, panicked rambling.

"We're gonna get out," said Dean, calmly. "I promise."

As he finished his sentence, the sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Dean and Jess didn't move in the slightest, and their breaths became softer and more controlled, trying to keep themselves from making too much noise. The sound became louder and louder, sending sparks and flames through Dean's nerves. He looked every which way his eyes could explore, but he saw nothing.

The sound became unbearable, and before he could even find where it came from, he started running. Jess was close behind him, and they escaped into a room. Once he closed the door, he heard the sound of it locking. His concern switched from escaping the footsteps to the fact that he was stuck in this room, and he tugged on the doorknob.

"Son of a bitch," he said.

"That's the least of our worries, Dean," said Jess, tapping his shoulder.

He turned around, looking around the room at the four nurses with pistols in their hands. Dean was confident with a gun, but he knew he wasn't skilled enough to take on four of those creatures.

He tried anyway.

He fired at the one on his far left, making quick work of her with two shots, one in the forehead, and one to the heart. Jess shrieked as they started firing back, hiding behind Dean as he tried to shield himself from the bullets, as well. He ducked and fired at the next one, bringing her to the ground with three shots to her chest. As Dean got closer to the remaining two nurses, one pulled out a small knife, managing to stab Dean's shoulder while he was trying to reload. He winced as she twisted the knife, and he screamed in pain when the knife was forcefully pulled out of his body. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed that Jess was the one who saved him, shoving the nurse away with a powerful kick to her side.

After Jess delivered that blow, the nightmare world started to erode away, bringing them back to Silent Hill. After the world changed back to normal, they were in an empty room with a single chair off to the side. Clint, grimacing in pain, was on his knees, seeming to be snarling at Jess.

"You didn't let me kill him," said Clint. "I thought you loved me. I thought you wanted to be with me forever, not with this moron."

Dean looked to Jess, who looked overwhelmed by the sudden change in surroundings. She looked at Clint, squinting her eyes at him.

"Wh-What?" she said.

"He's in the way of our love, Julia! If I don't kill him, I'll never be with you again. I just…I need you Jul—"

"Stop it," said Jess, sounding defeated. "Just stop it, okay? I'm not your Julia. I'm really not. Leave us alone. Killing Dean won't make you get her back. So just stop, please, or you're going to kill someone innocent."

Clint's eyes widened. He started standing, and he lost his balance as he tried to get his feet planted on the ground. As he looked at Jess, he looked lost, but also as if he just found himself. It was as if he found something he didn't want to find; he found something horrid.

"N-N-No," he said. "You're right. You aren't Julia. Because..sh-she's…dead."

There was a brief pause as both Dean and Jess acknowledged his pain. Dean stood, looking carefully at Clint just in case he decided to shoot him, and rose quicker when he realized Clint was seemingly paralyzed.

"I'm sorry." said Jess. "That's awful."

"You know what's really awful, miss? I killed her. I did it."

Jess's mouth gaped open, and she held her hands over her mouth. Dean looked at Clint, disgusted at the words that came out of his mouth.

"You're nothing but an ass," he said. "What normal guy just kills his wife? She couldn't have done anything worth dying for."

"You're right," said Clint. "You're absolutely right. Cheating on me is no reason to kill her. Cheating on me with six different men is no reason to kill her, but I did it. I…"

He seemed to have lost his train of thought, as he started walking passed Dean and Jess out the door behind them.

"Wait!" Jess exclaimed. "Where are you going?"

He stopped, stumbling a bit, and turned around. As he looked at Jess, his eyes reflected no emotion; they were dead. He was a zombie without the rotting limbs.

"I'm gonna…find Julia."

He shuffled to the end of the hallway, moving slowly and with teetering motions of his torso. It seemed like an effort for him to stay balanced. The way he was walking made him seem out of his own mind, and even possessed.

After he turned the corner, Jess sprinted after him, and Dean hobbled as quick as he could behind her. She stopped at the end, looking in the direction where he should have been.

"He's not here," she said. "He's gone."

"I don't know, Jess," he said. "Maybe he just…moved on."

"Maybe."

Noticing that they were still in the hospital, they went in search for something to fix Dean's wound. They looked aimlessly, and became impatient after about twenty minutes.

"It's fine, Jess," said "Look."

He grabbed a bandage off the floor, which, on the outside, looked clean, but Jess gave him a disgusted look as he slid his hand under his shirt and applied it to his shoulder.

"That thing could be seriously contaminated," she said. "It'll just get worse."

"I don't care. I just want to find Cas and get the hell out of here."

Jess inhaled deeply, and huffed it out forcefully, and Dean squinted in confusion.

"What?" he asked.

"All you want to do is find Cas," she said. "What about your brother? He's here, too. Don't you want him back?"

"Y-Yeah, but I really need to tell Cas—"

"Tell him what? Tell him that you're the one that—"

"Jess stop," said a gentle voice.

They turned to the sound of the voice, and they saw Sam, with the same injuries as they did earlier, but now, he was walking around. He looked hurt, as if his will was broken. Instead of staring at his wife, his gaze was fixed on Dean.

"Dean needs to find out on his own, now. After all, he was the one who decided to come here."

"Sam," said Dean, looking at him with big eyes. "Y-You're…"

Sam chuckled a bit.

"I wish, Dean," he said. "Why are you here, anyway? Didn't I tell you that it was a bad idea?"

"I had to, Sammy. I needed to find Cas."

"And why did you think coming here would help?"

Dean knew what his answer was. He wanted to confidently say "because Cas always wanted to come here", but he couldn't say it. He wanted to, but something in his mind was telling him that his answer was no longer the correct one.

"I don't have an answer," said Dean.

Jess started walking toward Sam, slowly, as if a rope was pulling her along. Dean watched as she did, becoming panicked when he realized that he was losing her.

"Jess wait," he said. "I still need you. I can't do this alone."

"Dean," she said, pain in her voice. "I'm done. I'm done helping you."

She approached Sam, and he looked down at his wife, gently taking her hand into his.

"I've found what I was looking for. I'm tired of being here. I'm tired of being afraid of what can jump out in front of us, next. I know your strength, Dean. I know you won't stop until you find him. You can do it."

"Don't leave me yet, guys, please," said Dean, as if his life was on the line. "Let's all work together, and let's go find Cas, okay? I can't do it by myself, I'm just lost, okay? I need help. Let's just go and find him, go home, and everything will be normal again. We can barbecue and laugh just like old times. Please, guys. Just…"

Sam looked at Dean as he fell to his knees in front of them, looking with eyes full of pain. He shook his head, and Dean saw this as he lifted his head to look at him. His heart sank.

"You're already here, Dean," he said, choking back tears. "It's too late to go back."

Tears rolled down Dean's cheeks. He knew what Sam meant, or at least he thought he did. He refused to believe it, despite how true those words were. His head faced the ground, his head hanging in defeat. He had finally lost the will to keep going.

But he couldn't give into it.

He looked back up, noticing that Jess and Sam were gone. As he rose to his feet, he sniffled and wiped his tears away, walking slowly out of the hallway and down the stairwell at the end.

When he made his way out of the building, he walked down the street with an empty gaze. He didn't know where he was heading, but he felt it was where he needed to go. As he made his way down the foggy streets of Silent Hill, he saw the silhouette of a woman. She looked familiar, and this motivated Dean to move faster. As he got closer, he realized who it was, and stopped when she was in clear view.

He remembered her name; her name was Lisa.

She was sitting on a small flight of stairs, in her white dress and white sandals. She was looking away from Dean, but reacting to the sound of his footsteps, she looked over at him. She looked angry, rising slowly and making her way over to Dean.

"You were in that nightmare," he said. "How on earth did you get out?"

"Who's to say I'm not in my own?" she asked, stopping a few feet in front of Dean. "You act like you don't remember at all what happened between us."

"I do remember," he said. "I just don't want to re-live it."

"For someone who doesn't want to re-live bad memories, you're really trying hard to find them."

Dean knew she was right. He knew what he was searching for would only bring him pain, but whether or not it did, he was craving the closure.

"What do you want me to do, Lisa?" he asked. "I wish I could un-do it all, but I just can't. I'm sorry you're pissed, but I can't do shit about it anymore."

She chuckled lightly.

"Pissed doesn't begin to describe how I feel. I was pissed when the only time I heard from you is when you wanted a little pick-me-up because Cas was mad at you. I was pissed when you told me at that bar that you don't actually have feelings for me. That, was me being pissed. How I feel is how someone should feel after they get left at that same bar alone, with no way home but in the back of a taxi cab, without even knowing that some asshole would run a red light, and kill me in that car."

Dean was petrified. He tried to find the words to sympathize with her, but he was at a loss. He knew that he was partly to blame for what happened. He couldn't forgive himself, and her confrontation with him didn't make it any better.

"I'm sorry," was all he could bring himself to say.

"I wish I could accept that," she said. "But given that it's your fault that everyone you know is here in this town, I just think you're pathetic. And you're not gonna find what you're looking for if you can't just let go of the guilt."

She walked passed Dean, leaving him to ponder over her strong words. He turned to see where she was headed, and he watched her fade into the thick fog.

"She's right," he said to himself.

He looked at the building that Lisa was sitting in front of, and he saw a small piece of something on the top of the stairs. He walked up the stairs and picked it up, noticing that it was a picture of him and Cas. It was just after they'd fought, and Dean wanted to cheer him up by taking a pic of himself with a comical face. The camera caught Cas in the background, smiling at the hilarity of Dean's face, despite the horrible fight they'd just gotten in. On the back of the picture, there was a small note.

Even while we fight, no matter how angry I am at that moment, I know that I still love you, and I just want all the fighting to end.

Dean always looked at this photo after they fought, just to remind himself that Cas always loved him, no matter how hectic things were between them. He was filled with regret, knowing that all Cas ever wanted was peace in their relationship, and that Dean was the one who ruined it.

He had to find his closure; it was finally time to end all of the nightmares.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean went through the door and entered the building, looking upon a long, narrow hallway. Considering that the building outside was not very large in size, this puzzled him. He jogged through the narrow hallway, and as he did, he noticed pictures of him and Cas on the walls. They were happy, nostalgic pictures of the times they had through their relationship. As he made his way through the hall, though, the pictures started looking more melancholic. Cas was crying in one of them, and instead of tears, blood was running down his cheeks.

And as he made it this far, the walls started bleeding as well.

He wanted to turn back and get out as fast as he could, but his gut told him that he needed whatever was at the end of the hall. No matter how horrific it got, and no matter how frightening the pictures were, he knew he had to press on. He hurried through the hall as the pictures now started hissing and whispering words of disgust at him, as Castiel's face in the pictures became more grotesque.

He made it through the door at the end of the hall.

He entered a room that seemed to look like an empty dining room, with a large, black table in the center. There was nothing on it, though. Not even a tablecloth was draped over it. He noticed Cas sitting in one of the chairs, folding his hands and looking straight ahead of him. Dean's heart fluttered at the sight of him, but he knew that there had to be some sort of catch to this encounter.

"Cas," said Dean, quietly. "Please stop running, now. Let's just go home."

Cas simply moved his eyes in Dean's direction, without moving any other part of his body. The look in his eyes was empty; there wasn't even a hint of bitterness in them.

"I would be stupid to go back," he said. "After what you did to me."

Dean slowly walked toward the seat Cas was in, his heart crumbling bit by bit with each step he took. This already wasn't going the way he had hoped.

"I'm so sorry, babe," said Dean, stopping a few feet away from him. "I've learned my lesson, and I just want to go home, now. With you. Let's just work it out at home, okay?"

Cas turned the rest of his body toward Dean, and his previously empty eyes filled with scalding anger.

"Work it out? How am I supposed to, 'work it out' with you? You cheated on me, Dean. You cheated on me with a woman, at that. Do you know how that made me feel? And then to see that you showed absolutely no remorse after she died? How am I supposed to feel? I just…I just can't pretend like nothing happened."

Dean laid his hand on Cas's shoulder, trying to help comfort him, trying to hold his heart together, but what was the use? He felt he'd already lost.

"Cas I'm really sorry," he said. "I really did feel terrible about it. You know how I am, though. I just…I just bottle it up. You know I hate talking about stuff like that."

Cas shrugged his hand off his shoulder and stood up from his chair; it slammed to the ground after his sudden movement.

"And you still don't know why I can't come back? You still think I'm just going to listen to all of this and believe that you're gonna be different? I just can't get over it, Dean. It physically hurt me to see that you were cheating on me. It hurt so much, that I just had to get away from it all, so I just—"

His words cut off as tears started building in his eyes. His bottom lip started quivering as a single tear started rolling down his cheek.

"It's okay, Cas," said Dean, reaching over to wipe his tears. "I can try to change, just let me—"

"No!" Cas yelled, backing away from Dean's hand. "I'm done trying with you, Dean. You never thought of me when you would do anything, and look where we are because of that. Going back would be the worst thing I could do, and I'm smarter than that."

"Cas," said Dean, a bit more stern, his arms reaching out as if trying to embrace his lost lover.

In that moment, the expression in Castiel's eyes went from anger to fear, and it happened so swiftly, that Dean stopped before Cas even reacted.

"No please, Dean," said Cas, squatting close to the ground and holding his hands over his head, as if he was trying to protect himself. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm really, really sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I'm really sorry. I'm so sorry."

He kept rambling on, one apology after another, as he hunkered down. He was trembling uncontrollably as his apologies were becoming slurred.

"What's wrong?" asked Dean. "What did I do, Cas?"

"I'm so sorry," said Cas, standing up straight again, and backing away toward the door on the other side. "Please don't hurt me. Please, just…"

He opened the door after his back bumped into it, and scurried through before Dean could even think about moving. Dean slowly approached the door, bewildered more than anything about what just happened, and simply stood in front of it.

"Cas," he said. "Why are you still running? Even when I'm being so warm…"

He could hear Cas sobbing on the other side of the door, and instead of trying to walk through it, he turned around and made his way out of the dining room.

He shuffled down the hallway at a sluggish pace. His arms hung at his sides, and he paid no attention to the dried blood and horrifying faces all over the walls. Why be scared of these things now? He already felt the way the pictures were trying to make him feel. He felt defeated, lost, and without a purpose. He felt similar to how someone feels when the whole world tells him he's always going to fail, and that he's just not worth it.

And Cas was his whole world.

He made it out of the building, and the streets of Silent Hill turned pitch black. He slipped his flashlight out of his back pocket, and turned it on, looking around to see that he was still in the town, and not another nightmare.

"Help!" he heard a female voice say.

Snapping his head in the direction of the noise, he remained where he stood, trying to make sure he actually heard something, rather than losing his mind.

"Someone, help!"

He sprinted after the yelling. He wasn't sure why he was even running. He couldn't think of why he needed to help this person as much as he was determined to. His legs just took control, and moved themselves as fast as they could. His mind repeated over and over "why are you still fighting?" and he couldn't produce the answer. He didn't know what was keeping him going anymore, because his only motivation didn't want him back.

As he approached the screaming, he saw Lisa on the ground, her ankle being gnawed on by a dog of some sort, but as if its skin was ripped right off the body. It was simply made of muscle and bone, giving it a horrifying look.

The sound of Dean's footsteps disturbed the canine's snack time, and it growled at him. It tried to scare him away by snarling and getting closer to him, but Dean didn't budge. Without any more hesitation, Dean pulled his gun out and fired at the dog three times in a row, bringing it to the ground.

"Dean," she said, as if it was a strong effort to speak. "Thank you."

She brought herself onto her feet, leaning her weight on her un-wounded ankle, and bending her other leg in a way that would keep it from having too much weight pressed on it. She started limping toward Dean, and leaned up against him.

"You saved me," she said. "I don't think I could ever pay you back in full for this."

"It's fine," said Dean. "Just get out of here."

She looked up at him, with eyes full of pain. She gently embraced him.

"But…I want to return the favor. I'll do anything, Dean."

She raised her hand to her shoulder, and moved the strap on her dress down. Dean watched as she did so, revealing her bare shoulder. As she tried to slide the other down, Dean pushed her off of him, making her fall to the ground.

"Don't," said Dean. "Just get out of here, and don't ever come back. I don't want to see you anymore. I don't want you at all, whore. I regret everything I ever did with you. Because of you, Cas doesn't want me anymore. It's all your fucking fault. Just…"

He stopped, becoming breathless after unloading his anger on her. She looked at him, her expression mixed with fear and anger. She got up again, as if her injury no longer affected her.

"All my fault?" she asked. "You can't accept that all of this is your fault, huh? You did all of this to yourself. No one else."

"Just shut up!"

Dean fired at her, and the bullet went into her chest. Blood spread across her white dress, and she looked down at it, smiling at the red stain.

"Dean," she said, looking up at him. "Don't let me die without paying my debt back to you. Please."

She approached him, and he shot her again, which proved to be useless. He kept firing at her, one, two, and three times more, and as he was reloading, she grabbed his chest and pinned him to the ground.

"Come on, Dean," she said, trying to seduce him. "I promise, I'll make it worth my life that you saved. Just like the good ol' days…"

She started unzipping his jacket, and Dean tried to move his arms, but some unseen force was keeping them against the ground.

"Don't you want this? You've been working so hard, and you're so lonely now that Cas doesn't need you. Please, Dean, let me make it all better."

After unzipping his jacket, she moved onto his shirt, slowly unbuttoning it, revealing his bare, toned torso.

"Get the hell off of me," he snarled, trying to wriggle out whatever force was holding him down.

"But I'm going to make you feel much better, Dean. You're going to love how I make you feel. You're going to make those sounds just like you did before…

After his shirt was fully unbuttoned, she moved her hand over the zipper to his pants, and right as she grabbed the zipper, she gasped, and a blade ran through her forehead. Blood squeezed out of the space between the wound and the weapon that caused it. From the tips of her toes to the top of her head, her body faded away, revealing the face of the man who saved Dean.

"Cas," he whispered, pulling himself up to a sitting position.

"I couldn't tell if you needed help or not," said Cas. "But when I heard you protesting her advances, I figured I might as well step in and assist you."

"Thanks."

Cas turned and started walking away, and Dean sprung to his feet. He was sick of watching him walk away.

"Cas, stop," he said. "Please, for the last time, I'm begging you. Don't leave me. I don't want to be alone anymore."

Cas did as Dean asked, and turned back around, looking at him with a smile.

"Would you like to come with me, then?"

Dean pondered over his words. He could finally be with Cas, but not the way he wanted. He wanted to say yes, he wanted to stop being afraid of what was to come, but he knew what he wanted more. He just wasn't sure if he could have it.

"No, Cas," he said. "I want you to come home. I'm done here. Aren't you?"

"I am. But…I don't think you really are."

He walked toward Dean, and rested his head against Dean's chest. Dean lifted his arms and wrapped them around Cas, holding him closely; he finally felt at ease.

"I'm at home when I'm with you, Dean," he said, softly. "No matter where we are, I feel safe, as long as you're there as well."

Dean rested his chin on top of Castiel's head, as a single tear ran down his cheek and soaked into Cas's dark hair.

"So, does this mean you forgive me?"

Cas moved his head a bit, looking up at Dean.

"Of course, Dean. You wouldn't have come here if you didn't truly love me. You came here because of how terrible you felt. That's all I need to see that I can trust you."

Dean smiled a bit, and pressed his lips onto Castiel's. They closed their eyes, and Dean finally had what he was looking for. No matter where he went after this, as long as it was with Cas, it wouldn't matter to him. He would be happy.

Cas pulled away from the kiss and his smile could light up the darkened streets of Silent Hill. Dean found himself gazing into his eyes, unable to focus on anything else.

"Dean, we can't go home," he said. "That's not an option anymore. And either way, I don't want to go back there. It's full of old memories and things that I'm sure both of us just want to forget."

"Well what do we do, then?"

Cas moved out of Dean's arms and took a few steps away from him, staring at the empty road ahead of him. Silent Hill finally looked peaceful, with sun slowly rising in the horizon, and the trees swaying gently with the soft winds. It hardly looked like a nightmare anymore.

"We move on," said Cas. "We see what else there is to see. We live together, happily."

He turned around and smiled at Dean.

"Do you want to do this? With me?"

Dean looked at him. For the first time since he arrived in Silent Hill, his mind wasn't in turmoil. For the first time since he'd been here, he wasn't scared, nervous, or unsure about anything. Cas asked him if he wanted to follow, and without a doubt, he knew what his answer was. It didn't even need any thought; it was naturally what he knew was right.

This is what he was fighting for; this is why he never quit.

"Yes," said Dean. "Let's go."

Dean walked over to Cas, took his hand, and they walked down the street into the warm sunset. They walked to the warmth and certainty of a peaceful life after the despair that they'd been through. They ventured forward, leaving their past behind, trying to recreate their future into something they always wished they had. In this moment, they finally had each other, and they looked forward to a life of tranquility, where they could have those barbecues that Dean wanted with Sam and Jess, and where they could finally, and simply, live.

They moved on to what they called, their "heaven".


End file.
